


A Kind of Rebirth

by dramatic owl (snarky_panda)



Category: Hey Arnold!
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Future Fic, Gen, Mother-Daughter Relationship, Rehabilitation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-23
Updated: 2019-01-23
Packaged: 2019-10-14 20:41:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17515553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snarky_panda/pseuds/dramatic%20owl
Summary: She wasn’t quite a whole new woman, but she was getting better.





	A Kind of Rebirth

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the ladiesbingo challenge for the prompt: reincarnation; and for the genprompt_bingo challenge for the prompt: neurovariation. And it also fills the 'alive' prompt on the ridiculous 100fandoms table, should I follow through on that.

Miriam Pataki ran a comb through her blonde hair, studied her reflection, set the comb down and alternately smoothed and teased her hair with her fingers, picked up the comb and pulled it through her hair again. Her heart was racing and she took a deep breath to try to calm herself.

In less than ten minutes Olga and Helga would be coming to pick her up. She wasn’t sure about Bob. Today was a weekday and he might have decided he couldn’t leave the store. Miriam was looking forward to seeing them all and to going home, but she was also nervous. What if going home made all the issues she’d learned to cope with return? Once outside the safety of these walls she’d be vulnerable to the depression that she’d never been diagnosed with until now, tempted to self-medicate once again, and maybe she wouldn’t be able to resist those old addictions and bad habits that she’d always relied on to get through her life.

These were all things she’d talked about _ad nauseum_ in private sessions with her therapist as well as in group, and she’d been prescribed meds and outpatient talk therapy on her release to manage the depression. She had phone numbers she could call for support. She hoped it would be enough.

Funny, her feeling apprehensive about leaving this rehabilitation center when only a month ago she stood at the front entrance lamenting how far she’d fallen to have ended up here. Looking at her prior life from this side of it she wondered how she’d existed the way she had, and why it had taken so long for her to realize that she couldn’t go on like that (and not on her own – her two daughters conspired and confronted her together, and convinced her that she needed to seek help, before her brain and liver were destroyed).

Miriam brushed at invisible dust on her blouse then straightened it, lightly touched her hair again, managed a smile at her image in the mirror. The woman she beheld looked good, healthy. Clear, bright eyes. A complexion that glowed. Miriam hadn’t realized until now how sickly and haggard she’d looked before, how bloodshot and dull her eyes. She’d even noticeably lost weight around her middle now.

She picked up her comb one more time, decided that her hair was fine, and packed the comb up in her toiletry bag. Then she left the bathroom carrying the bag, shut the light behind her, and went to finish packing her suitcase.

The knock came a little bit earlier than expected. When she opened her door, her two daughters greeted her with hugs, kisses, and exclamations of how wonderful she looked. There were apologies that she owed them, that she wanted to make to them. They’d suffered too.

But that could come later when they were all at home.

“Daddy’s still trying to find a place to park. Then he’ll come in, but we may have to meet him outside if he can’t find a spot.” Olga bustled into the room and over to the bed where the open suitcase lay. “Let me help you finish packing, Mama.”

“You really look great, Mom,” Helga said quietly, hugging her again. “How do you feel?”

“Better, honey. Much better.” 


End file.
